


giant hearts

by intoxicatedclarity (windthorne)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Multi, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:45:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1690442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windthorne/pseuds/intoxicatedclarity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>even in all the worlds and universes, they always find their way to each other. a compilation of jeankasa one-shots/fics. ratings vary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. dance with me

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: so. i decided to compile a bunch of my one-shots/mini fics/writings and post them all together. bc why not?
> 
> you can find me on my tumblr: windthorne, where most of these have been posted and what not.
> 
> okay, intro done. i hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rated: k+
> 
> summary: It's their last moments together, and all she wants to do is dance.

Mikasa would never admit it, but she had always loved to dance.

She danced when her parents were still alive, and she still had the glow of a young child (and not the hardened features that come from a bloody war).

Her father used to hold her high and guide her around the room, twirling her around, making her dress swirl like a princess dress would. Her mother would sing songs from her family, traditional lyrics of an old world, as they moved across their small house.

Mikasa never smiled as much as she did when they danced.

She hasn't danced since she lost them, all those years ago.

And now, sitting here with her arms hugging her bent legs, and her neck feeling hot from the crimson scarf wrapped around it, there is nothing she desires more than to fall into those same familiar steps her father had taught her.

_Just like this Mika… yes, you've got it! You are such a good dancer…_

_I'm finally going to see you again, papa… my time is coming now…_

To her side sits a boy—no, a man—his face buried in his hands as he tries not to weep in front of her. She has never seen Jean cry, at least not in plain sight. But here in the middle of the forest (with the big ass trees Levi had called them), she has witnessed a lot. Jean crying was now one of them.

She was too broken to cry. She didn't think there were any more tears left inside her. They all leaked out a long time ago…

Her heart lurches at their situation—his gas has ran out from using it all up too soon, too quick. Her gear was broken from being smashed on the tree from a faulty move. His swords have all been dulled and hers have been used up, bloodied and cut apart. They've been fighting for hours in this forest, blood splayed across their bodies, from them or from their comrades they had no clue.

It was just them now. Mikasa has no idea where the rest of the Legion was. They probably left without them. Both of them were too far separated from the rest of the group to get back to them in time.

And now they're here, fully prepared to die because there is no hope of them coming back.

Mikasa has never given up. And she knows well that Jean hasn't, either.

But something about this moment just makes it seem like this is their last battle.

And so they sit here, awaiting their deaths as the clock ticks. She feels foolish for not moving, for letting death come to her, for giving up.

But she's so  _tired._  She's so tired and exhausted.

And she wants to see them again—papa and momma, she just wants to see them—

"Mikasa," Jean says softly, taking her out of her thoughts. "We need to move, Mikasa."

How could they move anywhere? Running wouldn't save them, nothing can save them now—

"We need to at least find our horses if we have a chance…" He murmurs quietly, standing up to take the scenery around him.

Mikasa notices the way he's gathered himself together, from the boy weeping in his arms just a moment ago to the man that was now trying to save them both. He's grown considerably in the time she's known him, and she admires how he's trying again, when she isn't.

 _There's nothing to do_ , she thinks.  _There's nothing we can do to save ourselves._

"Mikasa," He looks at her now, stares into her lifeless eyes. "Mikasa, say something. Please."

She doesn't, instead standing up to assure him that she's not dead yet.

_I just want to dance again._

"Will you dance with me?" She asks him suddenly, quiet words falling from her mouth in the midst of the footfalls that are heard from a distance.

_Footsteps. This is it._

Jean is panicking, she notices. "W-What?" he asks.

"Dance with me." She orders, voice cracking. She is breaking, and she just wants to see them again—

Jean doesn't understand what's gotten into her, but she is offering him this, and nothing else. She's given up, and this is all she wants.

His tight shoulders relax, his amber eyes visibly losing color. He's given up, too, his strength draining by the minute at the thought of escaping this fate that has always been chasing after him.

And he's just as tired as she is.

"Okay," he answers.

He takes her in his arms, a slow caress on her waist as she wraps her arms around his neck and breathes in his scent. It's not a good smell—musk and blood and dirt mixed into two—but she's too far gone to care. She moves them into a slow rhythm, and begins to hum the melody that her mother had taught her. Jean doesn't question her actions, only goes a long with her, lets her do what she wants because these are their last moments.

Is this really their time now? Is this how death will take them? In a forest covered with blood, dancing in the greenest of grass that's been soiled with scarlet blotches?

Jean decides this is probably the nicest way to die in a world like this.

The girl he's loved in his arms, for the last time, her hums in his ear of a song he's never heard before, a sound that is enough to blur out the increasingly loud footsteps that are closing in.

 _So this is how one dies_ , Jean thinks.

For Mikasa, she's back home, dancing with the sweet song playing to drown out the rest of the noise.

He's home to her, in these last few moments.

_I'm home, papa, momma._

_I'm home._


	2. headstrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rated: t
> 
> summary: in which Jean and Mikasa pass time by trying to ignore each other—which may or may not work out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bc commander kirschtein and corporal ackerman give me life.
> 
> enjoy!

It has been exactly 4 days, 11 hours, and 24 minutes since the Scouting Legion's corporal and commander last spoke to each other.

Well, to be specific, 4 days, 11 hours, and 24 minutes since Corporal Ackerman last spoke to the commander.

And for Jean, the commander himself, it has been  _hell_.

To the cadets, it was rather hilarious. The illustrious corporal constantly ignored the commander's advances on her, literally blocking out every plea he said to her, every "sorry" he whispered into her ear. Obviously, something had happened between the two, and she wasn't going to let it go.

Jean grunts as she walks away from him, again, right in front of his soldiers. It's embarrassing, really, to have to beg for her attention right in front of his juniors. He is their commander, for fuck's sake. Why in Sina is she  _still_  ignoring him?

The reason she was ignoring him wasn't even a valid reason to ignore someone for 4 days. They had gotten into a rather heated argument about the uniform designs that had came in at the time-there weren't any major changes at all, just a few touch-ups here and there-

But Mikasa didn't like it. At all.

Jean swore it wasn't even a big deal, the uniforms still looked the same-but she didn't budge, instead fighting against him and wanting none of it. It got worse after that, and they started throwing useless insults at the other before Mikasa gave up on him and stormed off.

He was too angry to realize how dumb he was to argue with her-with his own second in command-and didn't go after her, instead going on with the rest of his day and going to bed annoyed.

When Jean woke up, he went to go apologize because it was foolish to fight over some damn uniform design. But Mikasa apparently had a different idea in her mind.

Because instead of accepting his apologies, she went on to ignore him.

Her stubborn self wouldn't listen to him anymore. For days, she has acted like he doesn't even exist.

He was the commander, leader of a whole sector of the military, fighter for humanity-and yet, he couldn't get his own girlfriend to forgive him.

Jean wanted to rip all his hair out.

* * *

It has now been 2 days, 12 hours and 14 minutes since the commander has last spoken to the corporal.

Things seem stranger in the Scouting Legion, for now, not only is their commander looking miserable, but so is their corporal.

Jean had decided that vying for her attention would not get him anywhere-she would just keep on ignoring him anyway. So naturally, he just gave up.

He hated giving up. But he had to, because his girlfriend was tenacious and unwilling to listen, and he knew that this would be the only way for her to crack.

It's been hell not hearing her voice, but it's even worse not seeing her.

She was always hard to get, but this-this is just hurtful.

He fumes in his steps as he marches towards the training area where all the new cadets were. He sees Eren-no, Squad Leader Jaeger-coming his way and groans, about to turn the corner to avoid him, when he calls for him.

"Kirschtein," Eren yells, completely forgetting his title with a shit-eating grin on his face. "You're not going to believe what's going on outside."

"Honestly, I could care less," Jean grunts, showcasing his shitty mood. "Where's Mik-Corporal Ackerman?"

Eren raises a brow, cocky grin still present. "Why?"

"You know why, shitface," He crosses his arms.

"So she still hasn't forgiven you?" Eren snorts. "Man, for a commander, you sure do suck when it comes to girls!"

"Can it, Jaeger," Jean says, annoyed with that stupid smirk on his face. "Where is she?"

"Not saying until you tell me why you guys haven't talked in almost a whole week." Eren orders, brow raised.

Jean huffs, looking away. "Uniforms." He simply mutters.

"Hm. How stupid."

"I know!"

"Mika isn't going to talk to you first, ya know." Eren states.

"Believe me, I already know that, Jaeger."

He snorts. "Well, I was looking for you because I was going to tell you about her, anyway, so-"

"Eren, just tell me where she is." Jean says, exasperated.

"She's uh… with the cadets."

"Okay, thanks." Jean immediately walks past him, heading to his intended destination again, ignoring Eren as he still kept talking.

"Wait, Jean-" Eren yells. "You might not want to go there right now!"

"I do what I want!" Jean screams back, trudging forward, ignoring his comrade's warnings.

* * *

When the commander finally makes it to the training grounds, he is stunned beyond words.

His eyes are immediately set on his corporal walking around the cadets, who were fighting in pairs using hand-to-hand combat, much like he had when he was a recruit himself. She marches around with her hands held behind her back, calmly observing the way the soldiers fought and their techniques.

He expects this of her. She is the corporal for a reason, being the strongest in the whole legion, stronger than him even. She knows what's right and wrong in combat, and she usually isn't afraid to correct her soldiers.

What he doesn't expect is for her to interrupt a cadet fighting (specifically a boy), touch the soldier aforementioned in a rather intimate way to correct their stance, and smile when they thank her with a longing look that does not sit well with Jean.

And she does this numerous times, mainly to the boys, and even talks to them with a small smile on her face, which the cadets rarely see. She even giggles at times when someone cracks a stupid joke (and they're stupider than Jean's jokes), sometimes even blushing at a compliment.

And then it gets worse. She begins to spar with some of them, getting rough and throwing punches like nothing, even throwing them on the ground. Jean wouldn't mind as much if she wasn't constantly talking to them, teaching them, getting up close and personal with them, giggling and acting nothing like she usually does-

Flirting with them.

It irks Jean—why is she doing this?

And then he catches it—a quick glance in his direction, gray eyes looking up to meet his—and he finally realizes it.

_No. Fucking. Way._

Jean refuses to let her have her way- he won't intervene. He's not going to lose to her again-Mikasa isn't the only stubborn one in this relationship.

So he holds himself back as she starts up a storm with his younger soldiers, winking at them and grinning with fake spread across her face. It's all a show for him, and he strains himself, keeping his fists at bay as he watches another teen be thrown effortlessly on the ground.

He can tell the cadets like this kind of corporal, because as time passes, it becomes more and more uncomfortable for both her and Jean.

There is more touching involved now, more accidental brushes against her skin that makes him more angry than he was before.

And then, Jean sees it.

There it is, right then and there-a light smack on her ass as she walks past a blonde-haired cadet. He makes it obvious as he pats her rump, smirking at her when she stills in her steps. Mikasa turns, fully intent on throwing a death glare at the kid.

(The poor soldier was about to die.)

She doesn't get the chance to, though, because when she whips her head around, the boy is already down on the ground, his hands coming up to grasp his face in pain.

"Oh, fucking-" He groans, clutching his jaw that had just been hit. "That hurt! Who the fuck did that-" He rolls over in agony, mistakenly rolling onto the foot of somebody else. He looks up painfully to see-

His commander, an angry expression on his face and a tight fist in grip.

The boy gulps, suddenly unable to speak. "Oh-uh-commander-sir-"

"Don't. You.  _Ever_ ," He kicks the boy swiftly. "Touch her.  _Again_."

The poor cadet is now clutching his side, rolled on the ground, facing away from his commander. "I'm s-s-sorry-"

"Never lay a hand on your corporal like that ever again." He commands, looking at her, than at the rest of his soldiers. "That goes for the rest of you all." He sternly looks at each and every soldier she had interacted with in the past few hours. "Do  _not_  touch her."

All the cadets nod frantically, saluting him quickly before he waves them off. They all scramble off back inside, afraid of the wrath of their commander. Nobody wanted to see how their corporal would react, either.

After everybody leaves, Jean takes a deep breathe, running his hands through his hair. It's completely silent, save for the breaths of the woman standing behind him.

They were alone for the first time in less than a week. And he couldn't even look her in the eye.

He hears her sigh quietly, before walking up to him. She stops right behind him, her heavy breaths even louder than before.

He waits for her to speak.

A moment later, and she chuckles softly.

"So," Mikasa says nonchalantly. "The commander can get possessive."

Jean's eyes widen, turning to face her. "Oh,  _Sina_ ," He breathes deeply.

"What?" She asks.

"You're  _speaking,_ " He laughs. "You're actually talking to me again."

Mikasa rolls her eyes. "Why is that such a surprise?"

"Because it's been fucking forever," He exaggerates. "And what do you mean 'the commander can get possessive'?"

"I said that because I was starting to think otherwise." She says, slapping his shoulder. "I was actually attempting to flirt with the cadets, you know-"

"Yeah, I noticed." Jean mumbles with a bothered look on his face.

"And you still hadn't said anything," Mikasa continues. "It was as if you didn't care at all!"

"Are you shitting me right now?" he asks in awe. "I was about to pummel that boy into the Earth and throw him off Wall Rose!"

She smiles. "Good," She says. "I was hoping you would feel like that."

"But why did you feel the need to go and flirt with them, hm?" He questions.

She looks down at her feet, scarlet creeping onto her cheeks.

"Because you've been avoiding me." She answers softly.

Jean stares at her in surprise.

"So you resort to letting them touch you like that? Just so I could talk to you again?" He throws his hands up in the air. " _You_  were the one that wasn't talking to  _me!_ "

"Well-because-" She sighs. "You were dumb. And I was angry. And-just…"

"Mikasa," Jean grabs her hands slowly. "Mikasa, you don't need to do that. You shouldn't ever let them do that to you again. That is not what Mikasa Ackerman would do." He smirks. "That is definitely not what Corporal Ackerman would do, either."

"You're right," She states matter-of-factly. "I wanted to knock them all out." She huffs, crossing her arms. "I mean, you know I could."

Jean laughs, pressing a kiss to her nose, her stoic face set back in place with a slight flush on her cheeks. "Oh, I know alright."

She scrunches her nose, squeezing his hands in hers.

A moment passes before he pulls her gently into his arms, slowly letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Come here." He says as he pulls her closer.

She gladly lets him hug her, basking in his warmth and sighing.

They stand there for awhile until he speaks up again.

"So, are we good now?" He asks reluctantly, running his hands through her ebony hair.

There is a pause, and then: "Yes."

Jean squeezes her tighter, a grin spread across his face, and in turn, Mikasa pushes him away. "Yes, finally!" Jean yells.

Mikasa slaps his shoulder, crossing her arms again. "Only if you say sorry one more time."

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, I'm soooo sorry, Corporal Mikasa Ackerman." Jean says this all with a cheesy smirk, his eyes closed as Mikasa chuckles at him.

"And, say I was right about the uniforms." Mikasa adds.

"Mikasa was right about the uniforms," Jean repeats, opening his eyes with his brows raised.

"And also that she is always right." She hides her smile behind her crimson scarf.

Jean shakes his head. "Okay, now you're pushing it."

She shrugs. "But, I am."

He laughs at her confidence, and pulls her back towards him. "Yeah, you're right about that too."

Mikasa nods in acceptance. "See, that wasn't so hard."

He sighs in exhaustion. "But it actually was…"

"How so?"

"Because you wouldn't listen to me for days!"

"Well I'm listening now."

"Maybe I should send my approval of the new uniforms to Sina, since you seemed to like how I was a total wreck this whole week."

"Jean,  _no_." She orders sternly.

"Kidding, kidding."

"You better be, unless you want this to happen all over again."

"Oh, for the love of Sina!" He moans in agony. "Why is it you that I had to fall for?"

She smirks. "You love me."

He grins back, pressing his lips to hers to shut her up, before he wraps his arm around her and they begin to walk back inside the HQ.

"That, I do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL WHAT IS AN ENDING?


	3. storage room adventures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rated: t
> 
> summary: in which mikasa wants an answer to a very important question, but of course, jean is a little wimp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: based off a true story, aka what happened to me in middle school. ha. ew.
> 
> enjoy!

If Jean was expecting anything at all, he definitely wasn't expecting  _this_  to happen.

Football practice had just ended, the team finally breaking after a long and gruesome practice. He's sweating buckets, the sun blaring down on him and the humidity so high he feels like passing out. He is completely drained, all energy within him depleted, and all he wants is a nice, long nap.

He jogs behind the bleachers to grab his belongings, ready to just fucking leave, when suddenly somebody grabs his shirt from behind and tugs him backwards.

Jean reaches up to grab the collar of his sweaty t-shirt, trying to break away from the grasp of whoever was holding him. "What in the fu-"

"Stop." His movements immediately halt at the sound of the voice behind him. Jean recognizes who it is, quickly letting go and turning to look around, shirt still bunched up by the person holding onto him.

His eyes land on jet-black hair and iron eyes, followed by that loosely worn crimson scarf.

_What the hell?_

"Mikasa-" Jean begins, startled by her sudden actions.

"Don't, Jean," She interjects, holding up the hand that wasn't clutching his shirt tightly. "Just… Just come with me."

Jean gulps and doesn't argue, nodding his head in acceptance. The girl sighs, looking around to take in her surroundings, before tugging him backwards again and practically dragging him to an unknown location.

He quickly tries to think up an explanation to why Mikasa was doing this in the first place, but is met with nothing in mind. He doesn't know why this is happening…

…Or maybe he does.

He knows he looks like a loser, being dragged by the girl of his dreams to who-the-hell-knows-where, but he has a feeling he knows where this is going anyway.

Mikasa  _has_  been acting rather strange lately…

They stop abruptly, Mikasa letting go of his shirt and finally giving Jean a chance to catch his breath. He turns and sees that they're at a door in the fieldhouse right next to the football field.

Jean raises a brow, about to ask what she was doing, when suddenly, she opens the door and shoves him inside.

He almost loses his balance and falls, but catches himself before he can, his mind practically whirling. He takes a look around and figures out that they're in one of the storage rooms for the athletic equipment.

_What the hell is going on?_

Before he can speculate  _or even think_ , Mikasa once again surprises him, nudging him to sit down on one of the step-over dummies used for football. Jean complies, taking a seat on the makeshift chair and looking up at her. She stands in front of him awkwardly with her hands linked together, looking down at him with fiery eyes.

Jean was unfazed by her stare, too exhausted to be afraid of her (even though he never is).

"Mikasa," He runs his hands through his hair tiredly. "What are we doing here?"

He watches her try to think up a logical answer, shifting in her standing position awkwardly and looking around the empty room, save for all the football equipment that was packed inside. She keeps her eyes off him, looking a little bit nervous, and this surprises Jean.

_Is this what I think it's about?…_

Jean waits patiently for her to get herself together, unknowingly fidgeting with his fingers and wiping the sweat off his face that was definitely not accumulating from the just-ended practice.

Mikasa looks at him then. "Um, I've gotta ask you something."

His breath hitches.  _Oh. Fuck._

"Uh-um-" Jean stutters. "Uh-okay."

His thoughts were right. He knew exactly what was going on.

"Who do you like?" Mikasa blurts out, straight-forward and for the most part confident, save for the little shake in her voice that was barely heard.

_Ah. There it is._

Jean takes a deep breath, her words sinking in and letting the silence envelop around them. He looks away from her focused gaze, gulping.

It was known fact that Jean has always had a crush on Mikasa, ever since the 7th grade when she first walked into his homeroom. Everybody knew about it, and he was surprised that she had never found out, nor even got the clues that were hinted at his infatuation. She was completely oblivious, and still is, because it's junior year and she still had no idea.

But apparently, a few days ago, Sasha had casually brought up the subject of him to Mikasa, and his "little" crush finally came to light. Knowing Mikasa, she had brushed it off—but there was that discernible flush on her face that was always visible whenever she was surprised or embarrassed.

Nonetheless, when Jean found out about it, he didn't know how to react. Or what to do about it.

They haven't talked about it at all, not until now.

Of all the things he could have expected from Mikasa, he most certainly didn't expect this.

_Being cornered in a storage room can be crossed off my nonexistent bucket list now._

"Jean?" She asks, bringing him back to reality. "Who do you like?" She reiterates.

If he wasn't so tired from practice, his cheeks would be scorching red by now. "Um-uh-well, I-"

"Just please answer the question, Jean," Mikasa says, a hint of curiosity in her voice. "I just want to know."

"Well, ah, you see-" Jean stands up to get a better look at her, unconsciously bringing them closer together. "I'm pretty sure you already know-"

"Just say it." She takes a step forward.

He knew that she had her answer already, it was completely obvious. And yet she was still prodding him like this.

"Mikasa-" He slowly makes a move to grab her hand that was lingering beside his.

Since when did they get so close?

_Okay, Jean, now's your chance. Now's the time to tell her. Go for it._

"Who do you like, Jean?" She repeats one more time.

He takes a deep breath, slipping his hand over hers.

"It's-"

He's interrupted by the door next to them slamming open, the bright afternoon sun blinding them. Jean jumps at least ten feet away from Mikasa, the intrusion scaring him.

A tall, bald man barges in, his hands balled into fists with an angry look on his face.

"KIRSCHTEIN,  _WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?_ " Coach Shadis yells with a sharp tone, before noticing Mikasa beside him.

"AND WHY ARE YOU WITH  _A GIRL_?"

Jean groans, rubbing his face with his hands in annoyance.

_Goddamnit…_


	4. vena amoris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rated: t
> 
> summary: he tells himself that he's okay, even as he fidgets with the silver ring wrapped around his finger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: sorry in advance... but then again... sorry not sorry? :)
> 
> enjoy!

_**vena amoris** : latin; literally, "vein of love"_

* * *

 

For a pair of crazy, unprepared, and disordered losers, Jean has to admit that Connie and Sasha really got it together to make  _this_  happen.

This, meaning their own wedding.

The whole group honestly expected the event to be disastrous. Even from the beginning, it was unlikely to turn out good, especially when Sasha almost swallowed the ring Connie tried to propose with (and Jean still doesn't understand how that happened).

Nevertheless, everything seemed to work out so far, because they had gone through the ceremony with ease and there was not a peep from Sasha about wanting to eat yet. Jean was somewhat pleased with how it was turning out. Ever since he had taken the task of helping them with their stupid wedding, he was satisfied with this outcome.

Sasha looked stunning in her dress, a long with Connie looking clean and well-kept, besides the fact that he was sweating buckets, his forehead glistening in the light.

Him and Mikasa had planned out practically everything for the duo-to-be-wed, being the closest friends to Sasha and Connie. It was a success so far, but the day wasn't over yet.

Out of habit, Jean fumbles with the sterling, silver ring wrapped around his finger.

He was supposed to marry Mikasa in 3 months.

As the couple up front says "I do" (a long with a whooping kiss that Sasha awards to Connie), Jean smiles.

Standing a few rows behind him, Mikasa takes notes of his face.

It's the first time she's seen him smile in months.

* * *

The reception is just as eventful as the ceremony before, with the group bustling around the newly wed couple and Sasha practically getting drunk on her own food. Connie is all smiles every time he talks, and he glances at his wife sporadically throughout the night.

Jean sits at a table near the pair with the group, all nine or ten of them (He's lost count of how many there are, since there's just too many of them). Eren and Reiner are having an arm-wrestling contest, which to his surprise Eren wins once, probably due to Reiner's lack of awareness and the amount of drinks he's taken. Bert, Annie, and Armin watch patiently, laughing as the two battle it out in their drunkenness. Ymir and Historia are whispering to each other away from the group, giggling softly every so often.

Jean takes note of all of this, keeping it in his head to tell Mikasa later.

* * *

Mikasa watches the group from the corner of the room as they're gathered together, laughing at lame jokes and stupid comments made by Reiner. She watches Jean as a soft smile occasionally appears on his face, before disappearing just as quick.

Sometimes she thinks he is staring at her in the distance, from far away, but she quickly erases the thought from her mind.

She wishes she could take a picture of the way he looked right now, the way he was slowly letting himself go around the others and actually looking genuinely calm and collected. He looked at ease. He looked okay.

There is moment where their eyes meet, a quick blink of the eye. His intense amber eyes stare her down, and yet she doesn't look away.

Another moment, and he's glancing the other way.

Mikasa yearns to talk to him again.

* * *

He's grabbing a glass of punch on the other side of the room when he gets the question.

"Since when were you married, Jean?" A female voice asks behind him.

He recognizes the voice immediately, inwardly cursing himself.

"How would you know?" He asks curiously, turning to see Historia standing with a glass of wine.

There is a soft smile on the blonde's face as she nods at him, acknowledging him, before pointing at his left hand that held his cup.

"Your ring," She states clearly.

There is a jolt in Jean's chest, but nothing more.

"Oh," He raises his hand to stare at the argent band, chuckling. "That. Right. Of course."

"You never told me about this!" She says, clasping her hands around her glass. "Who is it? Who's the lucky girl? And why didn't you tell me?"

A chuckle escapes from Jean as he watches her reaction to his accessory. "I didn't tell you about it because when it happened, you and Ymir were on vacation." He sighs. "I guess I forgot to let you on on what happened."

"Like hell, you did." She crosses her arms. "I should have known about this."

"I would have thought you did..."

"I didn't. But now I do." She raises a brow. "Now, spill. Who's the girl?" Historia smiles despite her serious tone.

There is a long pause, and then: "Mikasa, of course."

Jean patiently waits for a response from her (just like he does for everybody else when he talks about it), fidgeting with the ring calmly.

He waits another moment before Historia gathers herself together. "Oh." is all she says.

Jean wants to feel some other way, but instead he looks at her full in the eye, without hesitance.

"She's not here right now," He states, rubbing the back of his head. "I thought she would have told you..."

Historia is speechless, but Jean doesn't think any less of it. It's the usual, anyway.

"I..." She pauses. "Yes. She would have. Yes."

A silence falls between the two as neither know what to say. Jean contemplates trying to piece together his words, in a way that would reassure Historia that he was okay (which he was, of course).

"I wish she could have came." He simply says.

"Yeah," Historia agrees after a second. "Me too."

As their conversation closes and he begins to walk away, she gives him a saddened and solemn look.

He pretends not to notice it.

* * *

The hours pass, and he smiles again when everybody cheers for Sasha and Connie as the two dance around the room clumsily, basically running around the space in a rhythm. By this time, everybody is wasted, and Jean decides that it's probably time to go.

He has taken it to himself to have a drink or two, but no more after, since he's become the designated driver for Eren and Armin now. It's common knowledge that Eren is a complete mess when drinking, and due to this, Armin has to take care of him and make sure he doesn't suddenly decide to jump out of the car or something. While Armin watches over Eren, Jean drives. That's just how it is.

At least, that's how it is now.

He yells at Armin over the obnoxiously loud music that they're about to leave, and Armin nods in agreement, ready to change his position from newlywed's friend to caretaker.

Jean successfully gets the two home, helping Armin carry Eren to his makeshift apartment, before finally leaving, knowing that they were in safe hands.

He looks at the radio clock on the drive home, reading the time.

_4:23._

Well.

 _It's not that late_ , he tells himself.

Jean takes a sudden turn after he makes up his mind, heading away from his house and towards another destination.

_It's never a bad time to visit._

* * *

"Today was a lot of fun," He says, chuckling at the ground before him. "Well, for the rest of them, it was."

"You would've had a blast, I'm sure. I mean, besides the fact that Eren is probably throwing up right now. But hey, Armin's got it taken care of. I think. You don't have to worry."

He paces the fresh, green grass around him, keeping his eyes on the floor with a hint of a smirk on his face.

"Connie and Sasha looked good today, too. I'm pretty sure they enjoyed it as much as everybody else did. And I'm glad."

He stops before the stone that he's become so familiar with.

"I hope you and Marco aren't talking about me. I promise you, I didn't do anything tonight. I'm perfectly sober." He chuckles.

There is silence, but he doesn't mind.

"You would have looked nice too, I would think."

The wind blows, and he can see the engraving on the old stone before him.

 _Mikasa Ackerman_ , it reads.

Another stone that says  _Marco Bodt_  is located just a few graves away, he could see perfectly from where he was even in the night.

Jean closes his eyes after a moment, sitting on the grass and placing his hands at his sides. He lowers his head as if in defeat, so tired and out of energy from his night.

He clears his throat to break the silence.

"I hope I'll see you soon." He says with a low laugh. "They miss you. I know they do."

A pause.

"...I miss you too."

* * *

From a distance, Mikasa watches him sit before where she lies.

She doesn't cry.

She just watches.

_I miss you more._


	5. observations from afar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: t
> 
> summary: in which jean is a dumb drunk and mikasa is good at everything that involves coffee. it's a small, small world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: hey loves, it's been awhile. this was for a prompt sent to my tumblr, which i'm always on (same as my username)
> 
> this is an old fic, but i'm writing a sequel for it right now bc why not?
> 
> enjoy :)

He had been living in front of Sina Cafe for the longest time now, and while he had never visited, he had always noticed the place and its cheery atmosphere, even from far away.

He had also noticed the workers there as well.

Or more specifically, a worker.

A female worker.

For the past few weeks, he would watch her from afar, serving the people and taking orders like she was running the place herself. She looked like she was good at it, too, and he became interested in her.

He began to learn little things about her.

He knew that she was a little mysterious to her customers, never fully being open and welcoming as she looked. Adding to that, she was beautiful, gorgeous even. Her beauty was often overlooked by the people rushing to work in the morning and grabbing a quick coffee everyday, never really noticing her at all. Not that he cared.

He knew that her boss was always making her clean the tables outside the cafe, for everyday he would see her scrubbing them over and over, sometimes more than once in an hour. He could make out her annoyed expressions and it made him want to laugh.

He also knew that that damn Jaeger boy visited her everyday and that was usually the only time he ever saw her smile. Whenever he came, he saw her face light up, even from the distance between them. It’s proof enough that Jaeger and her have some type of connection, although Jean tries to ignore that as much as possible.

He knew of her red scarf she wore everyday, of her habit of drawing said scarf to cover her face when doing something uncomfortable. He knew that she hated cleaning and she hated rude people (who didn’t?). He knew that she often got bored and liked to read books in her free time. He knew that she was the best at making the beverages in the cafe and that she was basically good at everything she did.

He knew the simple things about her, and yet he didn’t even know her name.

That is, until he had come back to his apartment late at night, drunk as hell and struggling to open to door to his room. He had been stuck in the hallway of the complex for about 30 minutes, spending the first 10 minutes finding his keys, the second slumped against the wall, and the third trying to open his door. He felt himself grow tired more and more, and gave up, sitting against his door and closing his eyes.

A few minutes later, he opened his eyes to black hair and charcoal eyes.

"Are you okay, sir?" were her first words to him.

He doesn’t notice her at first, simply just staring at her like a fool.

"Sir?" She asked again, kneeling over to meet his eyes fully. "I live in the room 3 doors down. I just came home and you’re lying here…" She sniffed and tried not to gag. "And you’re drunk."

Jean nodded, smirking at the pretty lady before him.

"Very drunk." She concluded. The woman sighed, looking around the hallway before standing up, dusting off the skirt she had worn.

She proceeded to pat him all over, and Jean jumped slightly, eyes widening in surprise and… well…

"Don’t get excited," She said, watching his expression. "Where are your keys?"

He pulled them out of his pocket reluctantly, savoring the moment of her gray eyes so close to him. She grabbed them quickly, sticking them into the keyhole and opening the door swiftly. Jean lost his support and promptly fell back, hitting his head against the carpet whilst the girl gasped. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry—” 

"It’s fine, it’s fine," Jean murmured, holding his hand up in defense. "No need for that, you’re too pretty to say sorry to me." He blurted out, oblivious to his running mouth.

The girl chose to ignore his comment and grabbed his hand, beginning to pull him inside his room, practically dragging him like he was a dead body.

Jean was surprised at her strength and her ability to grab him and throw him on his bed. He groaned as he landed there, face first with his butt sticking out in the air. “Fuck,” He yelled, squirming to get in a better position that was more comfortable.

Jean knew that this was not the best first impression he had left on her, but at the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

The girl sighed after a moment of catching her breath, staring at the boy that was sprawled on his bed, drool falling out of his mouth.

"You seem comfortable." She said after a moment.

Jean smirked, wiping the drool he had. “And you seem very nice.” He stated. “And very pretty.”

She grabbed her scarf to hide the redness in her cheeks. “Thank you.” She whispered.

"No problem, beautiful," He said, closing his eyes, his brain already turning off. "You know, I’ve seen you so many times and I still don’t know your name." He mumbled this, and if she hadn’t been listening closely, she probably wouldn’t have been able to decipher his words.

"You don’t?" She asked curiously.

"Nope." He shook his head.

"It’s Mikasa," She said. "Mikasa Ackerman."

"Mikasa Ackerman." He repeated, saying her name wrong, although she ignored it. "What a pretty name." She blushed at this, and he wanted to chuckle at the way she got red after every compliment he gave, if only he werent so damn tired.

"What’s yours, drunkie?" She asked him after a silent moment.

After getting no response, she looked to see that his eyes were closed once again and his body unmoved. He was out like a lightbulb.

"Of course." She stated, looking around the room and grabbing the nearest pen and paper.

She looked at the window in his room, noticing the cafe she worked in, and smiled to herself.

The next morning, Jean woke up to a headache and a sticky note stuck to his forehead. Neat, black handwriting was scribbled across it with a number and a name that was embedded in his brain forever.

_Mikasa Ackerman_ , it said.

_ You really should stop by Sina one day. _


	6. sidetrack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rated: t
> 
> summary: he isn’t supposed to get distracted during missions. but tonight, she is the definition of distraction. // jeankasa spy au (but not really…)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry y'all. it's been awhile. school is finally over, so hopefully i can get back in tune with my writing ^_^
> 
> for now, here's a double update that you ao3 kiddos deserve. enjoy!

The place is too clandestine, too shady to be called a real club. There’s so much going on behind-the-scenes, but everybody is too busy to notice.

Except them.

“You’re drawing attention,” she whispers as they sit at the bar, her voice low enough only for Jean to hear. “People are going to notice us if you keep that up.”

He’s all confusion and perplexity, all wrapped up in a too-nice dress shirt and a pair of slacks. “Keep what up?”

She’s all simplicity and power, dressed in blood-red from head to toe. “You. Looking at me.”

Oh. He hadn’t notice he was doing that, in all honesty.

They were supposed to be searching for the big boss around this club, the one with a single imprint of a number “9” on his pinkie. First, they find him; then, they take him down. Like they always do on their other missions.

But something about this night is making his job extremely difficult to do. And it probably has to do with the way that scarlet dress dons his partner.

It’s hard to focus on the conversations he has with others when Mikasa’s dressed like  _that_  in a club like  _this_.

“I’m not the only one drawing attention.” He turns away from her just so, in order to make it look to the public as though they aren’t interacting.

He can’t see the blush deepening in her cheeks, but he can still feel the sharp breaths she takes, the close warmth she elicits, the quiet drumming she makes with her fingers.

She sighs behind his back. “Bathroom. Now.”

He straightens his posture, surprised. “Huh?”

“Meet me in the bathroom in 5.”

“Uh…” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Which one?”

“Men’s. Too many women are here.” And then she’s gone.

When Jean enters the night club bathroom minutes later, he has to cover his eyes.

The room is incredibly filthy, with one toilet and one half-broken mirror. The floor looks questionable, while the walls appear to have not been cleaned for a year. Or more. That, and the fact that it’s so damn  _bright_. The stark contrast of this room from the club outside almost blinds him.

But it gives him a chance to see her, actually see her, in the light.

Mikasa deliberately avoids his eyes as the door shuts quietly behind him. He expects this.

“We’re not accomplishing anything.” She says not a moment later, her arms crossed.

He sighs, scratching his head. “I know.”

“You keep getting distracted. And when you get distracted, it gets me off-track, too.” She huffs. “In the end, it doesn’t work out.”

He tilts his head, curious. “Why does it throw you off, too?”

“Because I know when you’re looking at me,” she says, and he freezes. “I can feel it, even if I can’t see it.”

He turns away to hide the slight redness in his cheeks. “Damn. Am I really that obvious?”

She nods, but he doesn’t see it. “Try harder, Kirschtein.”

Jean turns back around, only to see that she’s leaning against the wall and unconsciously giving him a better look at her legs. He tries not to stare, but they’re  _right there_.

“You okay, Kirschtein?” she asks, almost teasingly.

A grunt. “I’m fine.”

“Sure.”

“Back to the mission.” He orders, voice suddenly rough. “We need to catch Mr. Pinkie.”

“Right,” she continues his thoughts, eyes avoiding as always, “It’s as if he’s making himself as anonymous as possible. Although, I did see this man with gloves on, and he was rather suspicious…”

“Why didn’t you make a move on him, then?” he asks, clenching his fists while doing so.

She turns her head slightly to make full eye contact with him, radiant black meeting his gold. “Because you kept looking at me.”

Jean holds her eyes in that moment, unable to look away. He knows he’s been caught, he knows he was done for a long time ago. But now it’s at the point where this—whatever the hell it is—is interfering with his work. And something needs to happen for him to get back on track.

Suddenly, loud footsteps are heard, quickly approaching the door.

There’s a shift in the air, as both of their eyes widen and they move closer to each other.

Mikasa’s already grabbing his shoulder, pushing him against her in a fleeting motion. “Jean—“

“Oh—wait, fuck—“ He already knows what to do, and he instantly moves towards her, as if he was meant to, and shoves her against the wall in one swift movement.

It’s as if they’ve done this before, but they certainly haven’t. He would’ve remember if they had.

One moment they’re calm and collected, talking as partners do, and the next he has his hands on her thighs, lifting her up against the wall, and suddenly their faces are so close—

She grabs his face and slams her lips against his before he can ponder over anything else.

His mind shuts down after that, when their lips meet. He forgets the fact that it’s a large, vast room they’re in, for he fills up the entire space she encompasses. Their lips move against each other slowly, then roughly, then back again to soft. She presses her body closer to his, and he hitches her higher up the wall, his hands holding her thighs and sliding, higher—

Jean refuses to open his eyes, because he can’t fathom the reality of this, even when the door opens and the music  _booms_.

She wraps her body around him protectively just as he pulls away from her. He lifts his head to hide her face and features from the intruder, all while tightening his grip on her legs.

He doesn’t open his eyes.

“Oh, uh—“ A slurred voice pops out from behind the duo. “Um, am I interrupting something?”

 _Are you kidding me?_  “Yes.” Jean drawls out, and his forehead meets hers.

“Oh, okay.” The man from behind says, “I’m just gonna…”

“Go.” The rough voice is back.

The man still hasn’t moved. “Yeah, I’m gonna do that.”

“ _Now_.”

“Okay, yeah. Okay.”

“Please and thank you.” His words drift in their close proximity, and she shivers.

“Okay, uh okay—“

He feels her, her deep breath trickling down his lips; and as soon as the door is shut, he finally opens his eyes.

A flustered Mikasa faces him, her chest heaving. It seems as if the music has stopped, and the only sound in the room is their breaths, mixing together.

“Uh. Wow.” He says after a moment.

She raises a brow. “Yeah. Wow.”

“That was…”

“Yeah. It sure was.”

A moment passes in silence, and he suddenly realizes that his hands are still supporting her against the wall, holding her under her dress.

She seems to realize this, too, and the blush in her face immediately darkens. “Uh—I think you can put me down now.”

His eyes widen. “Oh, right. That would be logical.” He gently lets her go, guiding her to the ground slowly.

The air feels different now. A tight tension has been lifted, somewhat. He walks away for a moment and wipes his face with his hands, still taking in what just happened.

_Did we really just do that?_

And then, he remembers that he’s still in a mission.

And he got distracted  _big time_.

“Shit,” Jean sputters, “We’ve been gone too long.”

She hasn’t moved from her spot on the wall, but she holds his eyes like a hawk and nods despite it all. “Right… We better get back…”

Their facades are back in that moment. It’s obvious as they exit the bathroom that they’re both trying to push the scene of the bathroom out of their minds.

But the feeling of her lips on his can never be erased from his mind, even in the midst of a mission.

And he knows now that Mikasa feels it, too.

* * *

Later, when the boss is apprehended and the club lights go out, Jean asks the question.

“Care to finish what you started back there?”

Because she did kiss him first, after all.

Mikasa doesn’t answer, nor look at him, but he can see the devious look in her eyes anyway.

They make it back to his apartment in one piece, and she practically jumps him as they emerge into the place. Their lips meet at the shut of the door, a complete opposite to the club earlier (but neither seem to notice). Once again, he loses his head, but she cradles it in her hands and twist knots in his hair all the same. He almost isn’t bothered when she shoves him against the wall of his room.

Almost.

He pulls away from her lips and smirks. “If I remember it clearly, this wasn’t what happened earlier.”

Mikasa quirks a brow, challenging him. “Oh really?”

He then spins them around, switching positions and trapping her against the wall. She doesn’t even look surprised.

“Now that’s better.” He whispers, before meeting her lips once again.

She grins in between kisses, and Jean can’t help but think that she’s the only  _good_  distraction to ever exist in this world.


	7. just remember to come back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rated: k+
> 
> summary: imagine person A of your otp picking up sleepy person B and carrying them to bed and person B just snuggles their face into person A’s shoulder. / aka jean thinks he's slick, but mikasa is always one step ahead of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: for tumblr user rei–hinos, b/c she's rad <3
> 
> this was supposed to be mainly jeankasa, but i enjoy writing the 104th kiddos a little too much.

The night unknowingly comes to a halt with the poke of a forehead. “Is Mikasa… asleep?” Eren asks quietly, pointing to the raven-haired girl sitting beside him. She hadn’t moved in quite a long time.

Jean, who is sitting in front of her, leans closer, trying to get a glimpse of her eyes. Surely enough, they’re closed.

She’s completely passed out. Which kind of makes sense. First to rise, first to fall.

“I’ll go take her to bed.” He says, already rising from the table. She lets out a soft snore, and he can’t help but smile over how  _cute_  it is.

Connie chuckles, raising a brow. “ _Her_  bed, right?”

Jean automatically blushes a deep red, smile disappearing in turn for an expression of surprise. “R-right! Of course!” He shuffles over quickly to Mikasa, who was dozed off on the chair. “What kind of man do you think I am?” he grumbles under his breath.

“The kind that’ll take any chance to cuddle with the girl he has the hots for!” Sasha bellows from the kitchen sink. She bumps hips with Connie just as he passes by, flashing a conniving smile.

Eren suddenly spits out his drink, narrowing his eyes. “What does  _that_  mean?”

“Nothing, Eren.”

“No, Armin, what are they talking about?”

“It’s really nothing.” Armin looks around to meet their eyes, motioning to himself as if to say ‘ _guys, seriously, help me_.’ Historia simply gives him a forgiving smile.

“Just forget about it, dimwit.” Jean sighs, lifting the scarfed soldier in his arms with only a little difficulty. “I’ll be back.”

“You better be!”

“ _Eren_.”

Jean chuckles to himself as he finally exits the room, Mikasa still in his grasp. The fact that Eren still has yet to know about his… thing for her…

Well. That can’t be helped.

He glances down to see that her snoring has stopped, but she’s still obviously in dreamland. Before he even realizes it, his hand is already at her forehead, brushing out the stray hairs that hide her face.

This motion causes her to jolt slightly, and Jean freezes, stopping in his footsteps. He waits for a moment, wondering if he woke her up, because  _oh shit if he did_ –

But her eyes never open. She is still as sleepy as ever, but she’s taken it to herself to cling to his shirt, effectively pulling them closer to each other.

Oh.

Jean looks around the corridor to check if anyone is peeking on them (because he swears the squad is out to get him) before staring down at her. He tries the movement again, brushing her hair from her face, and she snuggles even closer. This time, she practically burrows herself into his chest, head against his heartbeat.

Which happens to be  _pounding_  at this point.

He takes a deep breath, shaking his head.  _Alright, Jean, that’s enough_ , he thinks to himself, before he swiftly marches into her room and stands before her bed.

He lowers Mikasa on the mattress slowly, careful not to wake her up. As she lays on the bed and lets out a low hum, only one problem stands before them now.

And it happens to be that she won’t let go of him.

Her hands are intertwined with his button-up, and they have a death grip he’s not sure he can pry from without waking her. Even in sleep, she’s still stronger than him. Jean is left awkwardly leaning over the bed while she clings onto him for dear life.

At this point, he’s more than welcome to stay here. But what will the squad say…

Fuck it. Who cares what the squad says?

Jean carefully pulls himself on the bed in one swift motion. Her hands soften in that instant, but they stay attached willingly. He lets out one wicked grin before brushing her hair again.

This time, she opens her eyes.

For a second, neither of them move. Or breathe. The world stops for just a moment, as her hands slowly release his shirt.

And then, Jean sputters incoherent words and falls off the bed.

Mikasa only laughs.

* * *

“So, you–you were awake the whole time?”

“I woke up as soon as you lifted me from that chair, Jean.”

“So–the hair thing–you–you felt all of that?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,  _hell_.”

“Jean, it’s fine.”

“…Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now come back here. I actually do want to sleep.”

“…With me?”

“…If you don’t mind…”

“Oh. I don’t mind. At all.”

* * *

“Hey, guys, did Jean ever make it back?” Armin asks in the midst of the squad’s unintelligible conversation.

They slowly look at one another, unconsciously doing a head count to see who’s there and who’s isn’t, before they realize that he’s nowhere to be found.

Eren slams his hand on the table, a mad look in his eyes. “Oh no, that horseface did  _not_ –”

He’s already marching straight to Mikasa’s room before he can finish his sentence (and Armin swears he can see fumes rising from his head), while the rest of the group quickly scurry after him.

Historia makes a point to open the door softly before Eren can slam it open himself, and the whole squad pokes their heads through the cracks to see what has unfolded between the missing duo.

Sure enough, Jean and Mikasa are there–and sure enough, they’re sleeping silently in each other’s arms.

“I freaking called it!” Sasha whispers excitedly, nudging Connie.

“I’m going to kill him.” Eren mutters, cracking his knuckles.

Armin just rolls his eyes.

 


End file.
